


a love like religion

by hi_raeth



Series: skywalker is english for 'greek tragedy' [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Childbirth, Getting Back Together, Greek Gods AU, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Pregnancy, Reylo Baby, everyone finally gets their shit together, mentions of maternal death (Padmé)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25333987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_raeth/pseuds/hi_raeth
Summary: The mortals might think their love lives are messy, but they've got nothing on the gods.Nearly a century after the events of "will you build our altar here?", the time has come for Leia to finally resolve her love triangle with Amilyn and Han, for Finn to take the next step with Poe and Rose, and for Rey and Ben to make their dreams come true.
Relationships: Amilyn Holdo & Leia Organa, Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: skywalker is english for 'greek tragedy' [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1128338
Comments: 48
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for all the lovely people who've pitched in to help me with my upcoming move. I'm overwhelmed by your generosity and filled with so much gratitude, thank you all so much.
> 
> Title taken from Halsey's _Coming Down_.

The stars seem to shine brighter, this close to their goddess. Each one sparkles like a diamond in the sky, bright enough for the mind’s eye to easily connect the dots for each and every constellation Amilyn has lovingly placed in the sky, from the depiction of Leia’s doomed parents that serves as a navigational tool for mortals to the moon goddess’ latest courtship offering, an Alderaanian starflower the likes of which no one has seen since the metropolis of Alderaan fell to Palpatine’s infernal creatures millennia ago.

Leia had known this trip would be difficult from the very second she made up her mind, but the sight of that incandescent starflower makes it so much more painful. Would it be an act of kindness, she wonders, to strip all of Amilyn’s gifts from the sky, to spare her from the constant reminder of their past?

It would have been so easy with Amilyn, so perfect and lovely and painless after a lifetime of hardship and flaws and hurt. But Skywalkers have never picked the easy route, and Leia is long past any attempt to deny her heritage and all it comes with.

So she trudges on, white robes trailing behind her like the clouds she ascends to reach Amilyn’s residence, a marvel of intricate columns fashioned after the ancient temples that have long since fallen out of vogue among the mortals. Shimmering muslin flutters in the gentle breeze of a calm spring evening, curtains that sparkle brilliantly under starlight in lieu of walls that obscure.

Amilyn is already awaiting her, the expression on her face as serene as the full moon that guided Leia’s way. How she could have possibly known when even Leia had still been at war with herself at the start of this journey is one of those secrets even gods and titans will never be made privy to, but selfishly Leia is grateful for this, grateful that she will not have the speak out loud the words she can barely string together in her mind.

Instead, she reaches out for Amilyn’s hands with a shaky smile, and blinks away a stray tear when the moon goddess squeezes her hands as if to comfort her.

“I am…” It is not often that one finds the queen of the gods at a loss for words. Rarer still is one reminded of the fact that underneath all that fearsome lightning and formidable divinity lies a heart just as vulnerable as any other – something even her husband, her son, and her brother tend to forget all too easily.

But not Amilyn, never Amilyn. She has been by Leia’s side from the day the Cosmic Force willed her into existence and delivered her to the pantheon on a trail of stars, and perhaps the most painful yet reassuring thing about this whole situation is how secure Leia is in the knowledge that Amilyn will continue to be by her side until the day the Force reclaims the gods, no matter what happens today.

And for that, she cannot help but feel like the terrible, selfish, _cruel_ goddess some stories paint her as.

“Amilyn, I am so very sorry.”

The smile on the moon goddess’ face remains unchanged, even as she tucks Leia’s arm into the crook of hers and leads her on an evening stroll amongst the clouds.

“Everyone wonders, you know,” Amilyn says as they walk past a celestial recreation of the Organa Diadem, the very first crown Leia ever wore and the very first token Amilyn had offered her all those centuries ago. “They wonder how she of the gentle night could love a blazing sun.”

If she keeps her eyes straight ahead, if she focuses only on the lilt of Amilyn’s voice and the radiance of individual stars rather than the bigger picture they represent, Leia can almost fool herself into feeling detached from the situation, into thinking this is all just a fairytale she has no part to play in.

But then Amilyn stops under a swirl of stars fashioned into planetary rings that orbit the long-forgotten crest of Alderaan’s royal family, a proposal made for all to see now and forever, and there is no denying what must come next.

The only thing crueler than turning someone down, Leia firmly believes, is leaving them with false hope.

“I wondered too, for the longest time,” she admits, voice a barely-there rasp. “Sometimes I still do.”

The smile on Amilyn’s face fades into something smaller, something sadder. “Everyone forgets that all stars are blazing suns, you see. Everyone forgets that I was meant to love you from the very start.”

Leia tells herself not to cry, tells herself she is not the one hurting here, not the one hurting the most anyway, and if the moon goddess can keep herself together then by the Force so can she.

Unshed tears obscure Amilyn’s faint smile from sight anyway. “I wish…”

A cool, gentle touch brushes her tears away. “And so do I,” Amilyn murmurs. “But the Force works in mysterious ways, my queen.”

Perhaps if the Force had sent her Amilyn before putting Han in her life, perhaps if things had gone differently in the centuries since… but it is what it is, this immortal life of hers, and there’s no use picturing it differently.

They stand in silence under the stars, surrounded by the eternal evidence of Amilyn’s love for her, a love she wishes more than anything she could return in the same way. But eventually a column of flames erupts in the distance, the tell-tale sign of a certain forge being heated up, and Amilyn ends the moment by shaking her head with a little laugh.

“I assume you have yet to inform him that he no longer has to outdo me?”

Leia shrugs. “Let him be nervous for a little longer, it might do that over-inflated ego of his some good. Besides, it felt right to tell you first.”

Amilyn takes her hand once more. “And I appreciate it more than you could know.” But then her lips curve into a wistful smile, and she lets go with a finality that lodges itself in Leia’s heart like a dagger. “But I think it’s time to put him out of his misery now, before he chokes the night sky with that ugly smoke of his.”

Even now, she is the one being strong and brave, the one making light of the situation and wearing a smile that assures Leia everything will be all right.

If only…

But the gods know better than any other to entertain thoughts of a different life, a different world, and in this lifetime she knows this is the only way for all three of them to move forward, knows that anything else would have been unfair to Amilyn when a piece of her heart will always be Han’s.

So Leia wills a smile onto her face, says goodbye with a nod because there are no words for this, and then turns to walk away from Amilyn while she still has the strength to do so. She is nearly in the clear when the moon goddess’ parting words reach her.

“Leia… one last request, if you will.”

She turns, just barely, to cast Amilyn a smile over her shoulder. “Anything.”

And for the first time this evening, Amilyn’s smile is more daring sun than serene moon. “Tell that blacksmith that if he even _thinks_ of rubbing this in my face, I will immortalize him in the most unflattering constellation to ever exist.”

The laugh that escapes her is unexpected, but sorely needed after everything that has happened today and everything that still awaits. “If he does, I’ll design it with you.”

Amilyn nods in acceptance, and waves goodbye. “May the Force be with you, my queen.”

Leia echoes her parting words and carries them with her as she descends from the skies of Gatalenta to the depths of Corellia, down into the heart of the fiery volcano her once-husband had chosen over the heavenly radiance of Olympus, over their family, over _her_ all those centuries ago.

One of the greatest regrets of his long life, if he is to be believed.

Perhaps she will let him stew in that regret a little longer.

Han instantly notices her presence, as he always does. And as he always does, he pretends to be disaffected and continues to hover over his workspace even though his hands have clearly ceased their busy movements for now.

Leia allows herself to drift closer – not to him, but to whatever it is he’s working on now, whether it’s a gift for her or a new manner of ship for the mortals or…

It takes a while for the sight in front of her to make sense, the rough and gruff demigod of the forge Han Solo bent over a delicately-wrought crib.

As soon as it does, though, she leans against the nearest wall – soot and scratches be damned – and crosses her arms with a smile. “I see they’ve told you, then.”

“Few days ago,” Han tells her, barely sparing her a glance as he runs calloused fingertips over a blooming flower shaped of iron, searching for imperfections. “Cheeky little thing, that daughter-in-law of ours. Walked right in like she owned the place and asked me for a couple of cribs, no explanation whatsoever.”

Leia shakes her head fondly. “That does sound like her.”

When he looks up this time, at least he has the decency to give her a grin before his eyes return to the crib. They lapse into silence for a while – they were always comfortable in silence, always comfortable with giving each other space, until one day there was too much space and silence was all they had left and stars, how did they ever let things get so bad between them?

“So,” Han says after loudly and abruptly clearing his throat, no doubt recognizing the signs of her thoughts spiraling out of control.

“So,” Leia echoes as she inches closer, close enough to trail a gentle touch along the curving vines of wrought iron. “We’re about to be grandparents.”

Han shrugs. “That’s generally how it works when your son knocks his wife up, yeah.”

In all her years on Olympus, Leia has seen evil gods, reckless gods, even dumb gods – and yet her husband remains singular in his irreverence. “ _Han_!” she snaps, even though they both know she lost the ability to be truly scandalized by him lifetimes ago.

It’s worth it, if only for the sheepish grin he gives her. “Sorry, Princess. Old habits.”

“Old habits indeed,” Leia mutters to herself, and decides to stop beating around the bush. They might be living in relatively peaceful times, but that doesn’t mean she can afford to spend her whole night in this volcano and leave Olympus unattended. “Speaking of which–”

And finally, Han gives up the pretense of focusing on his work and deigns to give her his full, undivided attention. When he looks at her like that, like she is all there is in the room, in the world, in existence itself… when he looks at her like that, she remembers why she’d married him out of all the gods lining up to throw themselves at her feet.

“With the… with our grandchildren on the way, I’ve been thinking.” It’s not that she plans to turn them into a second chance, she would never do that to Ben and Rey, but– “Perhaps it would be a nice gesture if you and I were to offer some help, every once in a while. You know, present a united front and all that, let them grow up with both grandparents fully involved in their lives, without any screaming matches or cold wars or…”

She’s rambling, she knows she is, and _curse_ Han Solo for being the only living creature in all the galaxies still capable of making her nervous all these years later, curse him and those knowing eyes and that devilish smirk–

“Leia.”

“And I just think that maybe it would be a relief for Ben too, to have his parents finally get along and be able to co-exist in the same room at a time and–”

“Oh, for crying out loud–”

“And Rey, you know she’s always thought of us as the parents she never had, I think she’ll need us now more than ever–”

“ _Princess!”_ Han finally snaps, his voice a bellow in the cavernous depths of the volcano. When she finally brings herself to look at him though, the look on his face is nothing like what she expected.

He’s smiling at her like he did the day they found out about her pregnancy, the day they got married, the day they welcomed Ben into the world.

“Princess, just shut up and kiss me, will you?”

And so she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two years since I wrote the original piece in this series and I still don't know how this 'verse spiraled out of control like this. My heart will always belong to Reylo, but apparently the other gods would like to have their love stories told too - especially Leia, hence this 2000-word chapter.
> 
> So here we are, with a three-shot that only focuses on Reylo in the final chapter. Amazingly enough, I did not intend for the structure of this fic to mirror the prequel at all. What a happy(?) coincidence. Coming up next: Finn, Rose, and Poe. And after that, at long last: Rey and Ben.
> 
> Until then, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this! As always, please feel free to leave a comment or [say hi on Twitter](https://twitter.com/hiraeth_writes).


	2. Chapter 2

“I know it’s supposed to be the most natural thing in the world or whatever, but seeing you like this still weirds me the fuck out,” Finn calls out across the lush green fields of Enna as soon as Rey is within earshot.

It’s a scene they have played out hundreds, maybe even thousands of times throughout their friendship: her tending to her plants, him strolling across the clearing to say hi. But the recent addition of her rounded belly is still too much for him to wrap his head around, even though it’s been decades now since she first confided in him about her desire to start a family with Kylo.

“Careful with your language, Ben nearly tore Hux’s head off two days ago for cursing around the babies,” Rey warns him with a laugh that is completely and terrifyingly at odds with her words. But then again, none of them have ever been that fond of the Underworld’s judge, jury, and executioner – especially Finn, after the centuries he spent serving under Phasma and having to deal with Hux day in and day out.

Finn grins at the mental image as he holds his arms open for a hug. “Tell him if he does, I’ll consider making him my best man.” It’s awkward business, hugging a pregnant woman; Rey automatically walks into his arms before her bump gives her pause, and a good twenty seconds pass as she shuffles to the side and Finn loosely drapes his arms around her shoulder to give her the lightest of squeezes.

None of it dims the brilliant smile that has formed on his first and dearest friend’s face at his words. “You finally asked them?” Rey asks, her words almost unintelligible as they escape her in a high-pitched squeal. “Stars, Finn, I’m so happy for–”

“About that,” he cuts her off before she can get her hopes up, and steps back to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. “I… might have chickened out. Look, I swear I was going to do it, I had a speech and the rings and everything, but–”

But after excusing himself to the restroom for one last pep talk before proposing to Poe and Rose at their anniversary dinner, he’d walked back into the room only to be struck anew by the realization that his loves are _gods_ – luminous, celestial, divine beings… and he’s just Finn, immortal on a technicality, a lingering remnant of his past life as one of Phasma’s many nameless, faceless reapers.

“Oh, Finn,” Rey sighs, and he might not be able to wrap his arms around her anymore but she has no problem winding one arm around his middle while Finn rests his head on her shoulder for comfort. They’ve talked about this enough times for Rey to know exactly what’s on his mind right now, but on the bright side it means she also knows exactly what to say to make him feel better about it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I had the absolute _worst_ case of low self-esteem shortly after Ben and I started seeing each other.”

That’s new.

Finn lifts his head from her shoulder and straightens up to look her in the eye. “You did? But you never–”

Rey shrugs. “You had enough going on at the time, figuring out your new dynamic with Rose and Poe. Plus we’d just been over more or less the same thing with you not feeling like you were worthy of one god, let alone two, and I didn’t want to risk dragging you down with me.”

“You– but– _Rey_ ,” Finn finally groans, leveling her with a disapproving look as he crosses his arms. “You went through all of that alone instead of turning to maybe the only other person who’s in a similar situation and could’ve worked through it with you?”

“I didn’t go through it _alone_ ,” Rey says with a roll of her eyes as she motions for him to follow her into a nearby greenhouse; he forgets sometimes that goddess or not, she can’t just stand around in the sun for hours on end anymore. “Ben was there for me every step of the way, as soon as I figured out how to tell him what was going on.”

The soft smile on her face, the faraway look in her eyes… Centuries later and his best friend is just as in love with the god of the Underworld as she has ever been, even after everything they’ve been through. That’s the kind of undying love he wants with Poe and Rose, the kind of forever love that he _knows_ is within reach for them, but something holds him back every time.

“That’s better,” Rey sighs as she sinks into a plush velvet chair next to a table set for afternoon tea and rests a protective hand over her bump, giving it an affectionate rub while Finn settles into a chair opposite her. “Anyway, there I was, a foundling goddess courting the grandson of Titans–” it sounds so much more intimidating than his own predicament when she puts it like _that –_ “and Ben… Ben took my hand and looked me in the eye and told me–”

Finn leans in closer, heedless of the clink and clatter of hand-painted porcelain as he rests his elbows on the table between them in his quest to accept Rey’s – well actually, Kylo’s – profound, life-changing words of wisdom.

Rey shakes her head at the memory, lips twitching with fondness. “He told me to let the past die,” she echoes, and Finn tries to be patient, he really does, but when the seconds continue to tick in silence he just can’t help himself.

“And?”

“There’s no _and_ , Finn,” Rey tells him with a knowing, serene smile, and he finds himself equal parts stunned and irritated. That can’t be it, that can’t be all it had taken for her to get over the same issues he’s been confronting for literally hundreds of years–

“You and I, we’re shaped by our pasts just as much as anyone else in this pantheon. Sometimes we don’t see it because we don’t have all this lineage to retrace and history to reckon with, but I think between the two of us we have enough ghosts to give any of the gods a run for their money.”

She is his oldest, dearest friend, the person he loves most in all of creation right after Poe and Rose, but _stars_ if Rey doesn’t stop talking in riddles–

“Let the past die, Finn,” she says, as if that’s in any way helpful. “It’s the only way the future can thrive. Let go of everything that came before, let go of the _you_ from before, so that you can see yourself the way you are _now_ : you’re an inspiration to so many lost souls looking for hope, you’re an immortal working with the Queen of the gods herself, and most importantly,” Rey’s voice grows softer, warmer as she reaches out for one of his hands, clenched in a fist as his impatience for her riddles slowly turns into vulnerability over her words, “you’re a person worthy of love, Finn. And all of _that_ , that’s what Poe and Rose see in you, not whatever past you can’t let go of.”

His voice is a little more choked-up than he’d like it to be when he swallows a lump in his throat and says, “Wow, I guess your husband isn’t a total idiot after all.”

Rey laughs as she gives his hand a squeeze. “I’ve been trying to tell you that for centuries, but I’m glad you’ve finally figured it out for yourself. Pomegranate tart?”

He knows how much it means for Rey to offer to share her food, even after all these years and especially now, but Finn takes one look at the delicate little pastry he only remembers from feasts in the Underworld and represses a shudder.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“More for me,” Rey shrugs, and somehow manages to make the silence that falls upon them while she demolishes the dainty little tray of pastries feel almost natural, as if she isn’t deliberately giving him time and space to digest her words.

The sun is dipping beyond the horizon by the time Rey sips at the last of her mint tea, and he knows they should both be on their way. Kylo will be here to bring his wife home any minute now, and Finn has people waiting for him too.

People who’ve been waiting for him all these years while the rest of the pantheon got married one after another, people who love him no matter his past and present and future.

He waits until Rey’s swallowed her last tart before tearing his eyes away from yet another one of Poe’s stunning sunsets to smile at his best friend. “I’m going to ask them tonight.”

To her credit, Rey keeps her excitement relatively contained; her eyes are sparkling and her smile is blinded, but her voice remains calm and even as she reaches out for his hand again. “I’m so proud of you, peanut.”

The old nickname leaves him a little emotional, but thankfully they’re interrupted by the familiar sound of hooves beating against the ground before either – or both – of them can get weepy. The setting sun frames Kylo Ren in silhouette as he emerges from the Underworld, ready to bring his queen back home.

“I should probably let you get going,” Finn sighs as he gets to his feet, knowing even as he speaks that Rey only has eyes and ears for her husband now that he’s appeared. For as long as he lives he’ll never understand the connection between life and death, the power Rey holds over Kylo and the way he lights up like the sun itself as soon as their eyes meet.

It’s pretty cute, though.

Rey slowly rises from her chair and props her hands on her hips. “I told you I could get home on my own just fine,” she calls out, but the exasperation in her voice is undermined by the undeniable fondness in it and the smile on her face. As much as she grumbles about Kylo being overprotective, Finn knows it still makes her heart flutter to be so loved and cared for even after all this time.

Kylo holds his hands up as he nears, a show of innocence and request for peace all at once. “I know you can, but would you believe that I just missed you too much to wait?”

If Poe and Rose were here, the former would be making exaggerated gagging sounds while the latter rolls her eyes. Finn though, Finn decides to let them have their little moment, hanging back as Rey steps forward to meet her husband’s open arms. Kylo Ren, tallest and broadest of all the gods, built every bit like the part-Titan that he is, has no trouble engulfing his pregnant wife in his arms, and the sheer _relief_ that floods him as soon as Rey melts into him is palpable.

He closes his eyes as Rey tucks her head under his chin, and Finn averts his gaze when the god of the Underworld’s smile grows a little too soft for prying eyes.

“Hello, Finn,” Kylo finally says a moment later, with Rey curled into his side.

“Hey, Kylo,” he replies, holding up a hand in greeting. “How’s it going?”

Kylo glances back at his wife with a soft smile before he returns his focus to Finn. “Better, now that I’m here. And you?”

Rey speaks up before he can. “He’s going to propose to Rose and Poe!” she announces in what can only be described, _at best_ and very generously, as a stage-whisper.

There’s no one around for miles, no way anyone – let alone either Rose or Poe – could have overheard that, but Finn still glances to his left and right before he turns back to his friend with a horrified look. “Rey! Shout it from the heavens while you’re at it, why don’t you?”

She shoots him an apologetic smile as Kylo finally drops the arm wrapped around her side and moves it to the small of her back while his free hand rises up, outstretched for a rare offer.

They’ve made a lot of progress in the centuries since Finn fled the Underworld and Kylo branded him a traitor, even more so ever since the dark and intimidating god became his best friend’s husband, but it’s still a bit of an out-of-body experience to step forward and accept a handshake from the god of the Underworld.

And– _stars,_ is that a smile?

“Good luck,” Kylo intones, while Finn stares at the curve of his lips in utter disbelief. “It’s one of the most terrifying things you will ever do in your immortal life, but it’ll be worth it.” He turns to Rey and kisses her forehead, the two of them beaming at each other. “So worth it.”

Once the world goes back to normal, with Kylo smiling at his wife and only his wife, Finn blinks away his shock and processes what’s going on. “Only if they say yes,” he finally settles on as a reply, his throat growing dry at the thought of things playing out otherwise.

Kylo startles him by placing a heavy, reassuring hand on his shoulder, because apparently today is the day pigs fly. “They will,” he says confidently, almost comfortingly.

However the proposal goes, this will definitely go down as one of the most memorable days in recent history.

“We should go now,” Rey says, dragging him back to reality. “Finn, do you want a ride?”

He manages a smile somehow, steps forward to hug Rey goodbye and accepts another handshake from Kylo. “Nah, I’m good. I think I could use a long walk right about now, get my thoughts together for later, you know?”

Rey and Kylo agree and wish him good luck again, and he watches as they disappear into the distance, the gateway to the Underworld shimmering slightly as the very fabric of reality knits itself back into place and seals the entrance.

Finn stands there for… ten minutes or an hour, he can’t tell. Long enough for Amilyn to coax all her stars into shining their brightest, and he spares her an unspoken _thank you_ as the constellations guide his way back home. The rings remain in his pocket where they’ve been for longer than he cares to admit, even as he finds the courage to start giving voice to his thoughts, tripping over words and rearranging them until finally, finally he comes upon the warm, welcoming lights of the house in the clouds.

“Now or never,” he mutters to himself, and takes one last deep breath for courage before finally fishing the rings out of his pocket as he climbs up the steps and opens the front door–

Only to find Poe and Rose waiting for him on the other side, eyes bright and smiles wide and arms linked as they ask him to marry them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I posted the first chapter, I intended to have the rest of this fic written and posted within just days. That was more than two weeks ago, oops.
> 
> If anyone's still here, thank you for sticking around and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, especially the little Reylo moments. Now that we've resolved the Han/Leia/Amilyn love triangle and given Finn, Rose, and Poe the happy ending they deserve, the third and final chapter will focus completely on Rey and Ben as they expand their family. Hopefully that chapter won't take as long to write, but in the meantime thanks for reading as always and please don't hesitate to leave a comment!


	3. Chapter 3

Ben has seen many odd sights in the course of his immortal life, but the vision of Phasma, fearsome goddess of death, rushing into the throne room with his pregnant wife in her arms and her normally cool eyes wide with panic is perhaps the most unexpected one yet.

He orders a sputtering Hux to take over sentencing for the day, and immediately stalks across the room to take Rey into his arms. “What happened?”

“I saw her doubled over in the gardens,” Phasma replies while Rey’s features scrunch up in pain. “It would appear that the twins are upon us, Your Majesty.”

Rey confirms the news, her head lolling weakly onto his shoulder as sweat dots her pale face. “I thought– thought we could wait until you were done, but–”

As troubled as he is by the realization that Rey has been going through this alone for stars know how long while he’s been stuck here judging souls, now is not the time to chide his wife for not treating herself and their children as his number one priority.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Ben murmurs soothingly, pressing his lips to Rey’s clammy, feverish forehead. To Phasma, he conveys his thanks and asks her to gather the rest of the pantheon.

It’s time to welcome a new generation of gods into the world.

* * *

Except his children, it would seem, are not all that eager to join the world.

In all honesty, Ben does not blame them. But he cannot well say that in front of Rey, who is getting more and more impatient to push the twins out with every passing contraction. It has been two hours since he deposited her in their bed and welcomed old Maz in, their birthing party limited to three as per Rey’s request.

The rest of the gods wait just beyond the tall onyx doors of the royal suite, and every so often celebratory cheers and uproarious laughter filter through the walls to reach Ben’s anxious ears. After the fourth such occurrence, he takes to glaring at the doors while pacing and grumbling to Maz about the _audacity_ of it all, to be out there joking and laughing while his wife is in _pain_ , while her life hangs in the balance along with their children’s–

“Get out.”

He doesn’t quite catch it at first, the words Rey has just forced out through gritted teeth. Instead he rushes back to her side and takes her hand, bracing for another contraction. But Rey quickly swats his hand away and crosses her own over her chest. “ _I said_ , get out.”

Ben gapes at her while Maz chuckles in the background.

“But I– you–”

Rey softens with a sigh and takes his hand once more. “Ben, I love you, but all of this is nerve-wracking enough without you wearing a hole into our floor and worrying about me.” She brings their joined hands up to her lips and brushes a kiss along his wrist, a gesture that usually works the other way around between the two of them. “So just… go stretch your legs for a bit or something, all right? And don’t come back in here until you’ve calmed down!”

God-king or not, he knows an order when he hears one – especially from his wife and queen.

“I’ll go,” he concedes, bending down for a quick kiss. “But you have to _swear_ you’ll send for me if anything happens. _Anything_. Please?”

“Of course,” Rey says, with a light squeeze of his hand that barely registers after the death grips she’s subjected him to over the past two hours. “You do _not_ get to skip all the ugly bits of this process, Solo.”

All these centuries later, and her teasing nickname still draws a smile from him. After one final kiss from Rey and a reassurance from Maz, Ben drags his reluctant feet across the room and past the doors, where eight pairs of questioning eyes immediately turn to him.

“She kicked me out,” he announces as the heavy doors shut behind him with a _whoosh_. His father is the first to recover and burst into laughter, and he approaches to throw an arm around Ben’s shoulder and walk him over to the line of chairs someone has set up in the hallway along with little tables of refreshments.

His mother stands up and gestures for Ben to take her seat. “I’ll go check on her,” she offers kindly, reading in his eyes the genuine concern no one else has picked up on.

Ben reaches for her wrist before she can walk away, finally allowing the full weight of the moment to hit him now that he’s out of sight from Rey. “Mom,” he whispers, heedless of the other people around them. "Mom, I’m scared.”

He hasn’t held onto her like this since he was a young godling still destined for Olympus, but then again he hasn’t been this afraid and lost since then either.

Leia wraps her arms around him as if he’s still small enough for her to protect from all the horrors of the world. “Oh, Ben.”

“It’s just,” he squeezes his eyes shut to ward off tears, takes a shaky breath and lets the familiar scent of her perfume soothe him. “It’s taking so long, and she won’t show it but she’s so tired, mom, and… and…” It terrifies him, even just _thinking_ this, but keeping the fear bottled up within him will only make things worse. “What if it’s like grandma all over again?”

The words escape him in a rush, barely discernible even to his ears.

But his mother catches them, of course she does. “ _Ben_ ,” she immediately says, drawing back to grip him by the shoulders and look him in the eye. “Ben, you are not Anakin. And Rey, brilliant as she is, is not Padmé.”

He wants that to be enough, really he does, but the dark tendril of fear curled around his heart is not so easily dislodged. “But what if–?”

“ _No_ ,” his mother interrupts, infusing that single word with all the authority of a queen. “Ben, listen to me. Your grandfather… he was scared, and he kept that fear to himself, and he made mistakes that all of us paid for. But you…” Leia smiles as one hand rises to cup his cheek, and Ben gladly leans into his mother’s touch. “You’ve made all the right choices, honey. They weren’t always the easiest choices, I know, but you’ve done everything right. Rey and the babies will be fine, I promise you.”

He is not his grandfather. He _isn’t._

While once upon a time that might have made him felt like a failure, today it only makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Okay,” Ben whispers, blinking away tears. “Okay.”

His mother wraps her arms around him, gives him one last smile, and then slips into the room. He stares at the doors for the longest time after she disappears beyond them, until a heavy hand settles on his shoulder.

“C’mon, kid,” his father’s familiar, gruff voice says, drawing Ben back to reality before he can get lost in his thoughts. “Let’s go for a walk, huh?”

They find themselves in the gardens where Phasma had stumbled upon Rey just hours ago, taking her customary stroll through the pomegranate orchard that had been his wedding present to her centuries ago. Ben reaches out for a ruby-red fruit and cracks it open out of habit, only to realize Rey is not by his side eagerly awaiting her favorite pregnancy craving.

Han takes half of the pomegranate with a smile, shaking his head at Ben.

“Sometimes you remind me so much of myself,” his father says, the last thing Ben would ever expect to hear. Their relationship is much better these days, perhaps even more so than it had been back when he was still a child, but he’s always known that he’s a far cry from what anyone would picture as the son of Han Solo, far from what his father himself had been expecting and hoping for.

But the faraway look in Han’s eyes doesn’t lie, his father lost in memories apparently conjured up by Ben. “I was _so_ nervous, kid. Nothing like my usual self. She didn’t kick me out, your mother, but she damn near knocked my head off my shoulders, aiming everything within reach at me. The _arms_ on that woman,” he reminisces with a laugh. “Comes from throwing all those lightning bolts, I guess.”

“Anyway,” Han snaps himself out of it, popping a handful of pomegranate seeds into his mouth. “Yeah, all the pacing and stressing… that was me, kid. I wasn’t just nervous, I was fucking _terrified_. Take on a Titan? Sure, I could do that. But raise a kid? I always knew I’d fail you. Maybe that’s why I didn’t even fight it when it started happening.”

Demigods are just as ageless as their full-blooded counterparts, but sometimes… sometimes Ben catches a glimpse of ancient sorrow in his father’s eyes that seems to age him by millennia.

Ben sighs and holds out an arm to stop Han from walking along, walking away from this moment. “Dad…” He can’t remember when he started having to look down to look his father in the eye; Han hadn’t been around for most of his growth spurts, especially the final few. But that’s all in the past, and– “You should let go of all that,” Ben tells his father. “I did a long time ago.”

“I wish it were that easy, kid–”

“It is,” he insists. “Look, the past… none of it matters anymore. Only the future. And as long as you’re willing to be a part of my future, of my children’s future, that’s all that matters to me.”

The halved pomegranate drops to the ground and rolls under the shade of its mother tree as Han gruffly swipes at his cheeks. “I’ll be the best damn grandfather in the universe, I swear,” he tells Ben, voice thick with emotion. “And Ben…”

Han reaches out for his hand and gives him a smile, a _proper_ smile, no trace of a smirk to be found. “I’m so proud of you, son. Couldn’t have raised a finer man even if I’d tried.”

It’s bittersweet, hugging his father after all this time. The passage of time is undeniable, and they’ll never get back all the years they missed out on when he was still small enough for Han to hold, but Ben decides to take his own advice and focus only on all the years they still have ahead of them.

The moment is cut short by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat, and father and son spring apart to find Rose waiting for them at the end of the path. Han attempts to subtly wipe his tears away while Ben to the impending godmother of his children, every fiber of his being warring between anticipation and dread.

Rose smiles, not even the slightest hint of a shadow marring the pure joy on her face.

“It’s time.”

* * *

Unlike his grandmother, Rey brings into the world a pair of baby girls.

With his mother sent back outside to wait with the others, this moment belongs solely to their new family of four. Maz makes herself scarce after nestling the babies into each of their arms with warm congratulations, bustling about in the background while Ben holds his family together, Rey leaning weakly into his side as they admire their daughters.

“They’re perfect,” Rey whispers, voice still faint and hoarse from the exertion of labor.

Ben presses a kiss to her sweaty forehead. “They’re ours. Did you expect anything less?”

Her laugh is weaker, smaller somehow than it usually is, but Ben isn’t worried anymore. Nothing can ruin this perfect moment, not even the Force would be cruel enough to infringe upon this scene of utter bliss.

Their oldest, though, appears to have no qualms about shattering the peace with a sudden ear-piercing wail, plush red lips parting to let loose a sound that’s much too big to have come from her tiny lungs. Rey sits up straighter and gently bounces the newborn in her arms. She’ll be a handful, this one with her mother’s eyes and her father’s disposition, but they’ve known that ever since Maz delivered her prophecy to them months ago.

And it’s thanks to the same prophecy that they know to slowly lower both babies onto the bed and allow their youngest to squirm closer and calm her twin. It works like a charm, the oldest quieting down just as abruptly as she had the moment her sister joined her in this world, the two of them harmonizing in a tiny symphony of happy coos as soon as they’re together.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Maz murmurs with a knowing smile as she walks past the bed.

Twin goddesses, one destined for the night and the other for the day, one bound to inherit her father’s darkness and the other every bit as much a child of the sun as her mother. The first part of Maz’s prophecy had been worrying, harrowing even, until the second part had made itself clear.

Because on their own, their daughters seem worlds apart. But together…

“Balance,” Rey whispers reverently, trailing feather-light touches over gummy smiles and rosy cheeks.

Together, they will bring back into balance what his grandfather disrupted so many years ago.

The last pair of Skywalker twins had been born into chaos and sorrow, but this time around there is only hope and love, only joy and peace as Ben wraps his arms around his wife and smiles at his daughters.

After generations of tragedy, it's finally time for a fresh start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than a month later, and we're finally done. This particular AU has lived in my head for so long that I know I'll always find a hundred and one things to tweak about it, but I think I'm ready to let go now that the Skywalker curse has been broken and we can walk away knowing that everyone will be just fine.
> 
> As always, thank you so much to everyone who not only gave this series a chance, but stuck by it throughout all this time. Please feel free to leave a comment about our favorite gods one last time, or [come say hi on Twitter](https://twitter.com/hiraeth_writes)! Until next time, friends.


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